Category: Welsh (Cymraeg)

Achoo!

By Simon

When someboday sneezes, do you usually say anything? If so, what?

In the UK it’s common to say ‘Bless you!’ after a sneeze.

In French they say à tes souhaits or à vos souhaits – souhait = wish, so these mean something like ‘to your wishes’.

In German they say “Gesundheit!” (Health). I’ve heard this used by English speakers as well.

The Welsh equivalents of ‘Bless you’ are:

– Rhad arnat ti! = Bless you! (to one person you know)
– Rhad arnoch chi! = Bless you! (to several people or a stranger)
– Bendith y Tad! = Blessing of the Father!

However I’ve never heard these used in Welsh.

How do you represent the sound of a sneeze writing?

Here are a few ways: achoo, atchoo, ahchoo, ah-choo, a-choo, atishoo, atchoum (French).

Here’s an infographic showing how people respond to a sneeze around the world:

How the world responds to sneezing

How the world responds to sneezing, courtesy of Expedia.ca

Snow falls

By Simon

As there has been some snow here this week, and it’s snowing at bit as I write this, I thought I’d look at some words for snow.

Snow / Eira
A bit of snow in my garden yesterday morning

In Romanian snow is zăpadă [zəˈpadə], which comes from the Slavic word zapadati (to fall) [source]. To snow is a ninge, and snowfall is ninsoare, which both come from the Latin ningere (to snow), utimately from the Proto-Indo-European *sneygʷʰ- (to snow) [source].

The English word snow comes from Middle English snow/snaw, from the Old English snāw (snow), from the Proto-Germanic *snaiwaz (snow), from the Proto-Indo-European *snóygʷʰos (snow), from the root *sneygʷʰ- (to snow).

Many of the words for snow in other European languages come from the same Proto-Indo-European root. However, words for snow in Welsh (eira), Cornish (ergh) and Breton erc’h, come from the Proto-Celtic *argyos (white), via the Proto-Brythonic *ėrɣ (snow) [source].

International Mother Language Day

By Simon

International Mother Language Day Poster

As you might know, today is International Mother Language Day. The theme this year is “Linguistic diversity and multilingualism: keystones of sustainability and peace”.

To do my bit for multilinguism, I’m currently learning Swedish, Russian, Romanian and Slovak, and practising other languages, especially French and Welsh. So far today I’ve learnt a bit more Romanian and Russian, listened to some Welsh language radio, and read a bit of Swedish.

Tonight I studied some Swedish and Slovak, spoke English and Laala, read in English, Latin and Scots, and sang in English, Welsh, French, Zulu and Church Slavonic.

What languages have you spoken, read, heard, written, sung and/or studied today?

Different ways of knowing

By Simon

In English you could say that you know a person, a place, a language or a fact. You could also talking about knowing about things, knowing of people, knowing how to do things, knowing hardship, knowing what’s what, knowing the ropes, and so on.

In Welsh to say you know a person or place you use adnabod or nabod. For exmple Dw i’n ei nabod nhw yn dda (I know them well), Wyt ti’n nabod Caerdydd? (Do you know Cardiff?).

When talking about knowing a fact you use gwybod. For example, Mae hi’n gwybod popeth (She knows everything), Dan ni’n gwybod tipyn bach am weu (We know a little about knitting).

In some cases you can use nabod and gwybod to show how well you know something. If you say Dw i’n nabod y gân ‘ma (I know this song), you mean that you are familiar with it, but can’t necessarily sing it. If you say Dw i’n gwybod y gân ‘ma it means you it well.

There are quite a few ways to say ‘I don’t know’ in Welsh: Dydw i ddim yn gwybod, Dw i ddim yn gwybod, Dwi’m gwybod, Sa i’n gwybod, Wn i ddim, ‘Dwn i ddim, and apparently in Bala they saw Wmbo.

To know how to do something is also medru, e.g. Mae o’n medru darllen (He can/knows how to read), and to not know how to do something is methu, e.g Dw i’n methu siarad Basceg eto (I can’t / don’t know how to speak Basque yet), at least in North Wales. In South Wales they say Mae e’n gallu darllen and Dw i ddim gallu siarad Basceg eto.

Irish equivalents of the above Welsh examples are:

– Tá aithne maith agam acu = I know them well
– An bhfuil tú eolach ar Chaerdydd? = Do you know Cardiff?
– Tá a fhios aici gach rud = She knows everything
– Tá beagán eolas againn faoi chniotáil = We know a little about knitting
– Tá a fhios agam an t-amhrán seo = I know (of) this song
– Tá an amhráin seo ar eolas agam = I know this song (well)
– Níl a fhios agam = I don’t know
– Is féidir leis léamh = He can read
– Níl Bascais agam go fóill / Níl mé abalta Bascais a labhairt go fóill / Ní féídir liom Bascais a labhairt go fóill = I don’t / can’t speak Basque yet

The other Celtic languages have various ways to express knowing, as do quite a few other languages, such as French, Spanish, German, etc.

Incidentally, when asked which languages you ‘know’? How do you answer? At what level would you say that you ‘know’ a language?

Sources: Geiriadur Yr Academi, WordReference.com, Reverso, fócloir.ie

Corrections are always welcome if I’ve made any mistakes.

Beards and chins

By Simon

Illustration of a beard

One of the Romanian lessons I did today was about parts of the body. One word that came up was bărbie [bərˈbi.e], which I guessed meant beard, but actually means chin. I suppose beards usually grow on chins, so this isn’t too surprising.

Bărbie comes from the Vulgar Latin *barbilia, from the Latin barba (beard; wool; down on a plant). Or from the Romanian barbă (beard) +‎ -ie (a noun suffix) [source].

In Spanish chin is barbilla [barˈβiʎa] – barba (beard) with a diminutive suffix, so it could be translated as “little beard” [source].

The English word beard comes from the Middle English berd, bard, bærd, from the Old English beard, from Proto-Germanic *bardaz, from the Proto-Indo-European *bʰardʰeh₂, all of which mean beard. The PIE word *bʰardʰeh₂ is also the root of words for beard in Germanic, Slavic, Romance and Iranian languages [source], and in Welsh (barf) Cornish (barv) and Breton (barv) [source].

In the Gaelic / Goidelic languages however, the words for beard are different: féasóg in Irish, feusag in Scottish Gaelic, and faasaag in Manx. The come from the Old Irish fésóc, from fés (lip; body hair) [source].

Are words for beards and chins similar in other languages?

Les mots de la semaine

By Simon
français English Cymraeg
le radeau raft rafft
flotter sur un radeau to raft rafftio
la tortue (de mer) (sea) turtle crwban y môr; môr-grwban
huissier; agent de poursuite bailiff beili
le porche porch porth; cyntedd; portsh
le comprimé; le cachet pill pilsen; pelen
le dessert dessert melysfwyd; danteithfwyd; pwdin
le désert desert anial; diffaith; anghyfannedd
parfumé; plaisant; agréable fragrant persawr; pêr; perarolgus; melys
la chambre d’enfants; la crèche; la garderie nursery meithrinfal; magwrfa; cylch meithrin

The Foreshortening Dark

By Simon

December in various languages

In many languages this month is known as December, or something similar, which comes ultimately from the Latin *decumo-mēnsris (of the tenth month) – the Roman calendar started in March (mārtius) [source].

However in some languages December has a completely different name:

In Welsh December is Rhagfyr [ˈr̥aɡvɨ̞r], which means the ‘foreshortening’, from rhagfyrhau (to foreshorten), from rhag (a prefix with various meanings) and byr (short, small) [source].

In Breton December is miz Kerzu [miz ˈkɛʁ.zy] – which means ‘very dark month’. The Cornish for December is similar and has the same meaning: Mys Kevardhu [source].

In Scottish Gaelic December is Dùbhlachd, From dubh (dark), so it’s a dark time [source].

In Irish December is Mí na Nollag (the month of Christmas). Nollag is the genetive of Nollaig, which comes from the Old Irish Notlaic (Christmas), from Latin nātālīcia (a birthday party), from nātālis (natal), from nātus (born) [source].

In Finnish December is joulukuu (Christmas/yule moon) [source], which was also the meaning of the Old English word for this month: Gēolmōnaþ.

In Czech December is prosinec [prɔsɪnɛt͡s], which comes from prosinoti (flashing, shining) [source].

In Polish December is grudzień [ˈɡru.d͡ʑɛɲ], from the Proto-Slavic *grudьnъ, from *gruda (heap, lump) & *-ьnъ [source].

Are there interesting names for December in other languages?

Hatlings, benders and beer tokens

By Simon

In one of the songs we sang at the Welsh session last night, there’s an interesting word – hatling, which means ‘mite, half-farthing; modest contribution, all that a poor person can afford’.

It’s a word I haven’t come across before, but from the context I guessed it was term of affection. This is how it’s used:

Fy hatling offrymaf dros enaid dan glo,
Fy nghanwyll offrymaf yn eglwys y fro,
’R offeren weddïaf saith seithwaith yn daer
Er cadw ei enaid anfarwol.
Myn Mair, Myn Mair

Which means:

My penn’orth I’ll offer for a soul in prison,
My candle I’ll offer in the church in the vale,
The Mass I’ll pray earnestly, seven times seven,
To save his immortal soul.
O Mary, O Mary.

You can hear the whole song here:

So it seems it doesn’t mean what I thought. I can’t find any information about its origin, but my guess is that it’s a perhaps a nickname for a half-farthing. This is a coin that was first minted in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) in 1828, and used in the UK from 1842. It was worth an eighth of a penny.

Some other nicknames and abbreviations for British coins include:

– Bender = a sixpence, known as such because it could be bent, due to its silver content. A one time you could get very drunk for a sixpence, which is the origin of the phrase ‘to go on a bender’.

– Bob = a shilling. Possibly related to bell ringing, as a bob can also be a tune played on church bells.

– Tanner = a sixpence. Possibly from the Romani word tawno (small one).

– Groat = four pence (fuppence). From the Dutch word groot (great).

– Ha’penny = half penny

– Tuppence = two pence

– Thruppence or Thruppenny bit = three pence

– Quid = £1

– Beer token = £2 (a pint of beer cost about £2 when this coin was introduced in 1998).

Only the £1 and £2 coins are still used.

Do you know of any other interesting nicknames for coins or bank notes?

Sources: Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru – A Dictionary of the Welsh Language, Ireland, Wales and Europe – Poems, History and Language, Royal Mint

Sitting in a session

By Simon

If someone said to you, “It was a good session last night”, what would you understand by that?

In my world a session involves people gathering together, usually in a pub, to play folk music, sing, and sometimes to dance and/or tell stories.

Other kinds of sessions are available: jam sessions, parliamentary sessions, training sessions, drinking sessions, recording sessions, and so on.

The word session comes from the Old French session (sitting; session [of a court or committee]), from the Latin sessiō (a sitting), from sedeō (sit), from the Proto-Italic *sedēō (sit, be sitting, be seated), from the Proto-Indo-European *sed- (to sit), which is also the root of the English word saddle [source].

I go to several folk music sessions a week, and usually play the mandolin, and occasionally the whistle, bodhrán or cavaquinho. I also go to a ukulele session. In some sessions we play Irish or Welsh music, in others we play music and sing songs from many countries. We also play tunes we have written ourselves, including some of my own tunes.

I’ve learnt many tunes from these sessions. Some I can pick up by ear after hearing them a few times, others I record and learn at home. I find it easier to learn a tune if I’ve heard it many times, though some are harder to learn than others as they are in unusual keys, and/or don’t go where you expect.

Similarly, when learning new words in foreign tongues, the ones that are easiest to learn are the ones that sound familar. Maybe I’ve heard them many times, and/or they’re similar to words I already know. Words that contain unfamiliar sounds and combinations of sounds take more learning, just as tunes in unfamiliar keys and/or containing unusual combinations of notes can take longer to learn.

Sometimes the versions of tunes I know are a bit different to the ones known by my fellow musicians. This is a bit like hearing a language spoken with a different accent, or in a different dialect – it may seem strange at first, but you get used to it the more you hear it.

Last night I went to a Welsh music session in the Globe Inn (Tafarn y Glôb) in Bangor. Here’s one of the tunes that was played (Y Derwydd – The Druid):

Gloopy!

By Simon

An interesting Russian word I learnt this week is глупый (glupyj) [ˈɡlupɨj], which means silly, stupid, foolish or inane, but sounds like one of the seven dwarfs.

The Russian name for the dwarf dopey is actually Простак (Prostak), which means simpleton.

Глупый comes from the Proto-Slavic *glupъ (stupid, foolish), which possibly comes from a Germanic source. Cognates in Germanic languages include glópr (idiot) in Old Norse, and glópur (fool, idiot) in Icelandic.

Cognates in Slavic languages include:

– Bulgarian глупав (glupav) = stupid, silly, foolish, fool, unwise, sappy
– Croatian glup = stupid, dumb, silly, dull, brainless, dense
– Serbian глуп = stupid, dumb, silly, dull, dense, obtuse
– Slovene glúp = dumb, stupid, moronic
– Slovak hlúpy = stupid, silly, foolish
– Czech hloupý = stupid, silly, foolish

A related word in Russian is тупой (typoj) [tʊˈpoj], which means ‘dull, blunt; obtuse; dull, stupid’. It comes from the Old East Slavic тупъ (tupŭ), from Proto-Slavic *tǫpъ, and sounds like the Welsh word twp [tʊp], which means stupid. Is there any connection?

The word stupid comes from the Middle French stupide (stupid), from the Latin stupidus (struck senseless, amazed), from stupeō (to be amazed or confounded, to be struck senseless), from the Proto-Indo-European *(s)tup- / *(s)tewp- (to wonder), from *(s)tu- (to stand, stay).

I thought I’d made up the word gloopy, but it does exist, and means ‘Having a glutinous, sloppy consistency’.